


The End Of Time Chronicles Vol I

by stephanie_reis



Category: Original Work
Genre: End of the World, Fantasy, Gods, Teen Romance, Teenagers, reality show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanie_reis/pseuds/stephanie_reis
Summary: When mortals become gods and gods become mortals.That's how the prophecy of the end of times begins. And when it concretizes, the Order meets a Goddess, a Queen and a Warrior in the Inexistence to hear their stories, starting with Annyka Halo, who believed she was just an ordinary girl with her disabilities who liked theater until she saw herself involved in a world of magic she never asked to be a part of.While she tries to follow her dream of being an actress, she has to face her traumas, lies, possible romances, and, most of all, herself.Would it be better to forget everything and go back to her common life, or to step up and face her destiny?





	The End Of Time Chronicles Vol I

The end of times had concretized.  
The three saw themselves holding each other in the middle of the dense, immense emptiness. A Queen, a Warrior and a God-dess. Coming from different places, for different reasons, now united for the most profound instinct there was in each of them: survival. They were so close theirs hearts beat like one, fast and strong. One single breath. One timid tremor. The life they knew, their friends and families, their homes... none of it existed any-more.  
A fourth figure observed them. A figure of human nature, but with something else. They were there in the middle of no-where it had been so long that they forgot who they once were. But seeing those three there, they were taken for a strong feeling of yearning and wanted to join the hug.  
The first one to notice the figure was the Queen. She let go of the others with a sigh and the eyes full of tears.  
“Grandma?” she called.  
The figure lowered the eyes and shook their head.  
The Warrior too let go of the hug and took a step back.  
“Are you God?” she asked.  
The figure raised an eyebrow and repeated to the Warrior:  
“Are you God?”  
The Warrior was about to say no, but then she stopped and thought about the question, and remembered her journey and eve-ryone she met. One of her first allies who taught her about the Order. So she fixed her posture, looked the figure in the eyes and said:  
“I am.”  
The goddess still hadn’t moved. She as hugging herself now that the others had moved away, and she looked sadly at the figure.  
“You are not who I’m seeing,” said she Goddess.  
The figure shook their head. In fact, each one of them was seeing someone different. The Queen saw her beloved grand-mother, with whom she lived for a few years, the woman she ad-mired the most. The Warrior saw an actress she once saw in the role of God. And the Goddess saw her best friend, whose death she had just witnessed.  
“I am what you call Time, my Lady,” said the figure to the Goddess. “And what you call Order, my Warrior,” they turned their eyes to the other woman.  
The figure took a step towards the Goddess cautiously, but she lowered her eyes. When she looked at the Order, she saw the most familiar blue eyes in the world, of the only person who was by her side through the madness of the last centuries. She couldn’t take the memory of the end of the story. Reaching out for her, claiming for help, and she did not notice in time.  
“I am here for eras and eras, trying to fix my mistakes, and forgot what first brought me here. But I feel I was once like you,” said the Order to the Goddess. “Or maybe I was like them.”  
They looked at the young human. Despite being scared, they were both standing tall and facing the Order. The Warrior and the Queen didn’t want them to know they were afraid, oblivi-ous to the fact they already knew.  
“I know you,” said the Order. “And you know me.”  
“Everyone knows you” said the Queen.  
“If you are the Order, you should be dead,” said the War-rior. “We just witnessed the end of times.”  
“How strange, isn’t it?” said the Order, thoughtful.  
The two human looked at each other, unsatisfied with the vague answers. They wanted to demand the Order to make every-thing go back, to see their loved ones and to life to return to its normal. But the Order didn’t seem to care about them, only to the Goddess. Like they both were connected for something bigger.  
“I know everything, but I remember nothing,” said the Or-der. “I beg, tell me your stories”  
The Goddess was finally able to raise her sight. To be face to face with her friend almost made her break down.  
“How can this be relevant?” said the Goddess.  
“How can it not?” said the Order. “If we are one, your sto-ries are mine. I feel your pain and confusion. Let me help.  
“Help? After everything?” cried the Queen.  
She walked to the Order with firm and hard steps and pushed the figure, that no longer looked like her grandmother, but with her mother: a beautiful and authoritarian woman that the Queen preferred to avoid.  
“You are responsible for it,” accused the Queen. “I lost everything I had.”  
“You did not, Majesty,” the Order said calmly. “You are here bringing with you everything you have ever been and have been through. All the places you’ve been and all the people you loved are here because you brought them.  
“All the places I’ve been are destroyed,” said the Queen. “All the people I’ve loved are dead.”  
“I am so sorry. Please, let me help,” said the Order. “It has been so long since the last time I’ve talked to someone. Tell me your stories.  
“My stories are going to die with me” the Queen turned her back and stood beside the Warrior. Hard look. Crossed arms. Not open to negotiation.  
The Warrior looked at her friend and then to the Order. In-side her, all the fear she hadn’t felt in her last battles seems to have accumulated, about to explode.  
“I don’t want help” said the Warrior. “Just let me go back and die with the others.”  
The Order didn’t seem surprise with that request, but didn’t seem willing to attend it either. Frustrated, the Warrior ig-nored the Order and wen to the Goddess. Once great, now just a fragile young woman. But it was worth trying. The Warrior held her hand and kneeled in front of her.  
“Please, Lady, let me go back,” she begged.  
The Goddess looked at her sadly and bit her own lip. Even if she wanted to concede her a merciful end, she couldn’t. She was powerless.  
Seeing the pain in the eyes of the Goddess, the warrior started to cry.  
The Goddess was the only one whose tears that almost filled her eyes had not escaped yet. She never wanted to believe it would come to this. Her last soldier begging to be sacrificed.  
But she always knew no one would survive the end of times.  
Not her stronger warrior.  
Nor her wisest queen.  
Nor her best friend.  
Nor herself.  
“Stand up,” said the Goddess, “and stop humiliating your-self.”  
The Warrior held her broken heart and obeyed the Lady. It was stupid to beg. The gods weren’t great as people thought, and that was a lesson she had long learned.  
Once again, the Goddess faced the Order.  
That face… the dark hair, the short beard, the light skin. She just saw that face in panic, screaming her name, and she let him die. She would never forgive herself and, honestly, didn’t think she would live enough to tell the story, but there she was.  
“If that’s what you want,” said the Goddess, “I will tell my story.”


End file.
